One Shot: Otto Carvalletti
by DazedInReality
Summary: A quick one on Otto,been in my head for a while.Hope you like!Otto is a slave to honour,duty and family.But when a woman comes into his life that sets into conflict those things, Otto must decide what matters most.


_A few months earlier in Seattle_

The phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Otto, Susan Kontis has been kidnapped."

"I'm leaving now."

"Bring the gang."

Otto sent a text to Kyl Poitiers and the Addams's, the replies came back instantly and Otto nodded, he liked the efficiency of the people he worked with. When you were a squire, your job was your life, it came first because if you allowed anything else to precede it in priorities people got hurt, things got damaged and unorganised, and Otto hated to be unorganised. Some might say he took the term workaholic to the extreme, Otto just said that if work was his life then it was pretty damn exciting. Otto moved his chair back, the world of diamons and dark-hunters waited for no one. Not even the luscious Cynthia Prince.

"You're leaving?" she sounded astonished and indignant, Otto doubted the little heiress had anyone do this in the middle of a date before. Admittedly she had a right to be pissed off, any woman would be, but Otto didn't particularly care; besides he was only giving her the pretence of a date so she didn't feel so easy when she was on her back tonight.

"Something's come up, babe," Otto replied smoothly, slipping on his jacket. An Armani suit wasn't the kind of thing you'd kick diamon ass in, but he had the money to buy more, so who cares? Otto gave her a smile that combined with his great Italian looks caused every woman to melt at twenty paces. "I'll see you tonight."

"If you walk out of here now, you'll never see me again!" Cynthia whispered viciously, how dare he do this to her, didn't he have any idea who she was? Who her father was? Otto gave a short laugh, she always forgave him. He bent down and gave her a swift peck on the cheek and departed for the door, he didn't have time to waste on her antics.

Cynthia silently fumed as she watched him walk to the door, she wanted to pitch the worst tantrum in the world, and was likely to when she got home, but she wouldn't do it here. It was a classy place and the press would have a field day.

Otto Carvalletti with his dark Italian looks and expensive suits was what she wanted, and she always got what she wanted. And after she played with them she threw them away, that was how it worked. But Otto had turned the tables on her, he was rich in his own right and when it came to playing she was his toy. He had her like a puppet on a string and she despised how one tug had her dancing to attention. He seemed to be able to take or leave her, she wasn't anything to him, and that would have to change. Her mother and father wanted her to marry and she could only marry someone who moved in the same financial and social circles as she did. She would not demean herself or her family by marrying anyone unworthy of her. She would not be anyone's means of climbing the social ladder, the problem was no one from her world was someone she wanted to marry. Otto however, had the whole package, he was everything her family wanted her to be with and then there was that air of danger, rebelliousness and barely leashed violence that kept her not just intrigued but absolutely addicted to him.

***********************************

"Well, if that doesn't just mess everything up!"

Otto raised his eyes from the paper he was reading and watched Kyl Poitiers smacking the monitor of the computer, Otto didn't outwardly smile but his eyes crinkled slightly in amusement.

"You told me nothing gets solved by having a smack down with a computer," Otto heard Kyl growl in his direction but sat stone faced while inside he was grinning. "'A computer is a much too complex device to be solved by hitting it like a Neanderthal.' Isn't that so?"

Kyl obviously despised having his own words thrown back in his face and rather then face Otto's sarcastic tone anymore he left the room grinding his teeth. Otto waited until the door had swung closed before letting his mouth relax into some semblance of a smile. He wasn't known for that side of himself, the closest he'd ever come to being a practical joker was when he'd had to be squire for Valerius a few years ago, but that was simply because he'd been put in an environment with the epitome of a stuffy stick in the mud. Though Otto was sure Tabitha would disagree, since she never had a word said against her husband.

Otto felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and immediately went to it, it was his work phone and as a squire he was always on call, even if today he and Kyl were meant to be given a little bit of leeway since they were moving back to New Orleans. Had it been his 'social' phone Otto would have thrown it from the window, he was sick of the ring tone now since it went off almost every hour. Cynthia Prince had unsheathed her claws and was determined to dig them firmly into Otto Carvalletti. It had all been very funny until his father, Otto almost drew blood from his tongue thinking about him, had caught wind of it. Since then he had been dropping hints daily on the privileges and benefits of marrying one of the Prince girls. As far as Otto was concerned he'd rather be drowned in a used toilet. He _might _marry one day, but it would never be to Cynthia Prince.

"Carvalletti, you good to go?"

Otto felt a ripple of surprise to hear Leo's voice. "Whatcha need, Leo?"

"A dark-hunter is dead."

Otto stared across the room at himself in the mirror, and his naturally honey comb skin took on an unhealthy looking pallor. The death of a dark-hunter sent shock waves through the DH community and it was a rare and shocking thing to hear, the equivalent to the president being shot.

"Who? How?" Otto gripped the phone tighter, when Leo answered he sounded worn out.

"Bryn Fane. He was stationed in London, England. Practically a recluse. Had no squire that we know of. Hardly ever checked in with the council, never known to access the website."

"Shit!"

"I know. We've been in contact with the council branch in the United Kingdom, the sent the Theti out to examine the murder seen -"

"So he was murdered?"

"Oh yes," Leo replied grimly, "Yes, he was murdered alright. The British Theti are certain of that, it may daimon attack. It looks like an ambush."

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Go online and check your e-mail."

Otto logged on and saw the e-mail from Leo, he clicked it and attached were pictures. Otto opened the files. The first picture was of a man, obviously Bryn, uncommon for a Dark-Hunter Bryn was not what Otto would have termed as handsome. Not that he was a judge on the beauty of the male species but as far as DH's go, Bryn looked rather rough. He had deep brown eyes and a rather tanned and weather worn face, his hair had been shaved to the scalp and the only indication that he was likely to be fair headed, even red headed was his light eyebrows, Otto quirked an eyebrow and moved on to the others. They showed an elegantly decorated and slightly modernised Victorian living room, in the centre of the room was a pile of dust, like sparkling silver and gold. The type that the Dark-Hunters turn into when they were killed, Otto felt his heart beat pick up its pace. The thick dust was assembled in the shape of the way the body had fell, one arm apparently under him and the other stretched out reaching, the legs sprawled open. Otto squinted at the picture, toward the phone table. One picture after another showed splashes of blood and over turned furniture, shattered ornaments and torn fabric, apparently Bryn had put up one hell of a fight before going down.

"You seeing it?"

Otto jumped at the sound of Leo's voice and realised for the first time that the phone was still connected and held at his ear.

"Yeah," Otto muttered, licking his dry lips, "yeah, I am. What the Brits say they think happened?"

"They aren't too sure. Seems that Bryn was very secretive and very reclusive. Even Ash didn't see him much on account of the man never asking for anything other then to be left alone."

Otto grunted. Most Dark-Hunters tended to be like that but it was common for them to develop at least one good friendship, if not with their squire then a Dark-Hunter that is stationed nearby. Otto paused at one picture and peered closely at it, he zoomed in.

"Leo, have you seen what the guy died with? In his hand I mean?"

"Yep."

Otto frowned as he scrutinised the delicate little chain that had been held in the Dark-Hunters fingers as he died, Otto flipped the image until he could get a clearer, more accurate view. He zoomed again.

"_Annwyl_?" Otto murmured.

"Is that what it says?"

"Yeah …" Otto paused and quickly browsed through his memory, as a child he had grown up speaking twelve languages fluently. He's father had made sure that their family, though working for Dark-Hunters, could moved as smooth as silk through the upper class polite society. They were whiter then white, their money was clean, there was never any scandal, the children were clever and married well (those that were of course). There was nothing about the Carvaletti family that could possibly hinder them in their travelling up the social ladder. It was why Otto's father had pushed Otto, who had been the most academically gifted of all his siblings to learn as much as he could. Otto had never had much patience for school and academics, preferring to be a doer rather than a great thinker, admittedly thanks to the old man he was exceptionally both. But Otto thrived on languages, he could pick up a new language in less then a month, he was just gifted that way, a prodigy. Otto clucked his tongue.

"It's a name, Leo. A Welsh name."

"Figures." Was Leo's only reply, but Otto didn't answer; he clucked his tongue again, thinking.

"It means beloved in Welsh. A girl's name."

"You think he could have pulled it off his attacker when they struggled."

Otto clucked his tongue once more and tapped his finger lightly on the key board, something wasn't ringing right. Otto stared at the picture, letting his eyes sift through the detail and colour, he did a double take.

"What have we here?"

"What?" Leo's voice said urgently, but Otto forgot to answer.

He zoomed into the picture, thanking Tad and Kyl for their great computer skills and engineering so that the squires always worked with the best. On the picture Otto looked carefully at the debris under the phone table, he quirked an eyebrow.

"What have you found?" Leo's voice said.

"Something," he muttered distractedly into the phone, bringing his face an inch away from the screen. A framed picture of Bryn lay among the shattered glass and papers, the most surprising thing was the woman who stood behind him with her arms wrapped around her shoulders. From the angle of the frame Otto couldn't get a good look at the girl.

"What the hell have you found?" Leo shouted down the phone making Otto wince and his eardrum throb.

"You want me to put the fucking phone down on you?" Otto sneered into the mouth piece, Leo growled, Otto growled back. Normally he would have tore into Leo then hung up but there were more pressing problems to deal with at the moment.

"You said he didn't have a squire, right?" Otto asked, "He was a bit of a loner?"

"So it seems, why?"

"Get on to the Brits and tell them to go back to his house and find the photo that had likely sat on the end table with the phone. It must have fallen off in the attack. Tell them to find it and get it faxed or e-mailed over pronto."

"What's it looking like to you?" Leo asked.

"It looks like we might have found someone who knows something about who killed Bryn."

"I'm on it," and with that the phone cut off.

********************************

The picture came through within the hour courtesy of modern technology and the Techs, which were basically squires that were computer geeks. Otto picked it up and looked at it as he bit into a slice of toast, he's mouth worked on the hot bread while he read the quick note attached from the British Squires.

_Hello there,_

_From what we can deduce, Bryn was killed before sunset, therefore making it rather impossible for it to have been daimons, however it doesn't rule out their human servants. The poor bloke seemed to have put up a bit of a struggle, the knife we found indicated that the chap was stabbed but the cause of death is, as you know, indefinable in the current state of the body. _

_Haven't the foggiest, who the girl in the picture is though, she's not one of our team. However, we've found out her name was Odetta Thorn and she caught the first plane out of England from Heathrow the night it happened, sources say to Louisiana. The extent of her involvement in the murder is as yet unclear. _

_Kind Regard,_

_Daniel Saunders._

Otto couldn't help but laugh at the slightly formal note and imagined it being written by a Sherlock Holmes type figure with an accent not dissimilar to Basil's from the _Austin Powers _movies. Still it was informative and the post script said they were sending the necklace over and that it should reach him in a day or so. Otto took another chunk out of his toast and flipped the note over so he could get a good look at the picture, as soon as he put his eyes on it his jaw slowed then stopped altogether. The smiling woman cuddling the dark-hunter was stunning, not in the usual sense of the word but even from paper the woman radiated warmth and vitality that had no doubt drawn in the damned dark-hunter, emphasis on the damned part.

Her hair was a thick healthy looking mane of brunette, tied back in a long ponytail that fell over her shoulder on to Bryn's shoulder that she rested her chin on. Her skin as all peaches and cream with a dimple in her left cheek. There was something about her face that struck a chord in Otto, it was familiar yet alien to him, he knew why. The women he consorted with on daily basis were not of her calibre, most of them had a glean of polish that was bred into them from the day they came out of diapers. They went to the finest schools, wore the most expensive clothes and jewellery, drove the fastest cars and dated the most prominent, wealthy men. From the earliest age they were taught to curb their personalities, to be neither too happy nor too glum, to laugh when appropriate and smile when needed. They never showed unabashed joy like this girl did in the photo, never grabbed a guy round the shoulders and hung on to him laughing while someone flashed a camera in their face. The girls and guys Otto knew usually struck a pose and were in Vanity Fair the next day. Such extreme restrictions placed on their lifestyles led to rebels, the up and coming socialites let loose in the V.I.P areas of the most exclusive clubs, where their loudest laughter was coke and alcohol induced. Where they grabbed men eagerly to pin them against the wall and screw their brains out because it was the only time they were allowed to show outward, exposing public affection. This girl was … wholesome, genuine. Real.

Otto snapped his head up and quickly tucked the photo away in his pocket; he wasn't sure why he hastily shoved it away and looked up rather guiltily. But the good thing was Kyl didn't seem to notice.

"Otto, you get the picture yet?"

Otto bulked slightly at having Kyl look at the picture, for some insane reason he wanted it to be for his eyes only. An unnatural, completely unreasonable possessive streak flared to life inside of him and he wanted to keep the smile of Odetta Thorn all to himself. Otto reluctantly withdrew the picture from his pocket and handed it to Kyl, Otto let out a silent breath of relief when Kyl made no comment on her, nor did his face show any great attraction towards her. Suddenly the door opened and Tad strutted in, he paused to look over Kyl's shoulder and whistled low.

"Pretty little thing," he said casually and Otto felt the urge to put Tad's head through the wall. "She the girl that killed the Dark-Hunter?"

"We don't know if she killed him yet," Kyl muttered, returning the picture to Otto, who slipped it once again into his breast pocket. "We don't know anything yet."

"Well, we need to find her anyway; I think we should alert our connections in the police department -"

"No," Otto said abruptly causing Kyl and Tad to stare, Otto didn't bat an eyelid, he was as ever composed and calm. He's aggressive nature wasn't something they were easily shocked by as it was always there, simmering below the chilled surface.

"What do you want us to do then?" Tad asked.

"I think it would be a good idea to be discreet. We'll send squires out to look for her, if we alert police and she gets wind of it she could run. We don't want to scare her."

Kyl and Tad nodded and Otto took the picture from his pocket without a moments hesitation and gave it to them. That was the first time he'd ever felt his professionalism slip, he would steel himself against it, because he could not afford to be anything other then his usual cold, efficient self.

"Take a good look at it, memorise her face. Tad fax this to our connections all over Louisiana, she could be hiding low here - God knows why - or she could be thinking to move on. Either way we need to find her, and we need her alive too, make that clear. If we find no trace of her here, we'll send the alert out nationally."

Kyl and Tad nodded and moved to carry out their orders, neither noticing Otto once more pocketing the picture in his breast pocket, his fingers lingering over that space a moment more then they should. They didn't see him deliberately stiffen his shoulders and clench his hand determinedly into a fist before moving out of the room in search of Odetta Thorn. Despite his promise to himself not to let her become an issue, and he would make sure she would not, still he wanted to be the one to find her. The first one to lay eyes on her.

*******************************

Otto passed Café Du Monde in his search for Odette, he casually cruised passed it in his car and wondered briefly whether he should grab himself something to drink and eat before continuing his search, the daylight was fading fast and his mother and father were anticipating his company tonight. Otto physically cringed when he thought of having to sit around the table with his mother and father and their _guests_: the Princes. Otto's father had made it quite clear to his son what was an acceptable matrimonial match and what wasn't. Cynthia Prince may not have been a Squire, but she had money and status and that was two out of a very selective three. Otto could not seem to get it through his father's skull that should he decide to marry, and make no mistake it would be his and only his decision, he would not under any circumstances choose to be tied for life to Cynthia Prince. Otto was certain that he wanted to marry someone who knew about the Dark-Hunter world, but since most people in 'the know', tended to be squires Otto was screwed because he thought of other squires more as family rather then potential partners. And even if he did perchance meet a squire whom he liked enough, his father demanded that they would not only have to be rich - that came with the job, so no worries there - but also have social standing amongst the polite society which Otto's family tried hard to inhabit.

Otto parked up so he could breathe for a moment, the subject of marriage always left him in a state of nerves. Why would his father want him to marry anyway? What was the big deal? Damn it, he wasn't even thirty yet, okay so he was two years shy of the big three O, but why all of a sudden was there such a big rush to see him settled down?

Otto felt a sudden bitterness at having the issue rammed down his throat to the point where he hated visiting his family. Otto was a man of strong will but his father could and would eventually wear him down to the point where he could end up marrying Cynthia Prince just for some peace. And then where would he end up?

_Rivalling Prometheus for spot of greatest victim of the year award!_

Otto laughed sadly when he heard Nick Gautier's voice waft through his mind like a summer breeze, Otto unconsciously rubbed his chest where an ache flared at the memory of his good friend. His lost friend. Otto believed that marriage worked for some people for others it didn't, marriage would work for him only if it happened on his terms. He didn't want to be a lousy, cheating husband that gave all guys bad names, but wouldn't that be exactly what he would turn into if he ended up married to Princess Prince? Otto put his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes, he needed to get away …

"Watch where you're going!"

Otto looked up at the irritated voice of a man, the guy was holding on to a lamp post as if he had just stumbled. He was looking aggressively at a young woman, who was holding out placating hands, her back was to Otto.

"I said I was sorry, didn't I?" She said with exasperation.

Otto went completely still; he stared intently at the woman willing her to turn around. Her accent was not that of a native, it wasn't even American … She turned and Otto felt his heart punch violently against his rib cage as if fighting to get out of his chest, Odetta Thorn had walked straight into his path. Literally. She was now crossing the road in front of his car; Otto immediately started the engine and began to sidle up behind her, keeping a close eye on her person as she weaved off down the street.

Realising quickly that the car was going to be redundant in following a pedestrian, Otto parked up and grabbing his gun, he got out of the car and trotted down the street after her. He stowed the gun in the small of his back under his waist band, hiding in the thickening shadows of dusk, so she wouldn't noticing him tailing her.

Odetta moved quickly through the streets, even as the crowd began to thin she did not slow her pace. She moved with grace and purpose, what she was moving toward, Otto had no idea but he followed anyway. He wondered vaguely whether he should call for back up, then shook himself. It was almost laughable that he had considered for one moment that this woman could best him in a fight. Odetta slowed her pace, so did Otto. She stopped and cocked her head as if listening, Otto quickly stopped to and hid deeper in the shadows, she continued walking slowly this time. Didn't the woman have any self-preservation? Otto almost wanted to shake her, she was walking unaided and unarmed through New Orleans at night, anything could happen to her! Suddenly Odetta broke into a run; she threw a terrified look over her shoulder and sped up. Otto flew after her, knowing his cover was blown; he withdrew his gun just in case she did something stupid and he needed to defend himself. She didn't. In fact she moved like her feet had wings, her athletic feminine form ran with astounding speed, as if she had trained all her life for this one getaway moment. Even in the midst of something so serious, Otto couldn't help admire the movement of her ass muscles in her shorts, her controlled breathing and agile motion of her body. Otto was fixated on her muscles as some people would be by a complicated dance … a mating dance. Shaking those thoughts out of his head, Otto tried to kick his body into action, he needed to catch up to her, but she completely outrun him. He thought he might have a shot of catching up to her when she stumbled and stalled near a high fence down a back alley, he gave a shout of triumph that she no doubt heard, he's shout turned into a cry of outrage and alarm when as graceful as a ballerina she lifted and flipped herself over the fence. Otto followed in the same way, only he fell as he climbed and ripped his shirt and chest.

Otto felt like he had been running for miles and he had, he worked out regularly and so, apparently, did she. There stamina had been matched against each other and she was coming out on top, he felt a stitch sear his side, which he grasped but kept going.

"What are you half gazelle!" Otto heaved and turned a corner on a street he recognised and saw her enter Sanctuary, home of the Howlers.

************************

Odetta stumbled through the door and straight into Sera, Dev's mate, Sera held her up and with one quick look at her face marched her though the crowd and out the back to a small room. Odette leant against the wall and tried to keep down the sick feeling she was experiencing.

_They had found her! God damn it, they had found her!_

She thought she'd be able to outrun them, to hide, but they were hot on her tail. Bryn given his life to keep her safe and she didn't even have the brain to keep herself unseen. She had walked through New Orleans today in a state of extreme self-pity, wondering whether or not it would be such a bad thing if they had caught up to her. But now after having to run for her life all self-pity and suicidal thoughts of giving up had evaporated under the overwhelming need to survive. She wanted to live, if only so she could avenge Bryn, that would be enough. Her hand wandered automatically up to her throat where her necklace used to be, she had left it with Bryn after finding his body, if she closed her eyes and conjured up a picture of him she could almost hear his voice.

_You've such strength inside you, Annwyl, such enormous strength. I look at you and know that there is still courage in mankind._

Bryn had said those words to her a week or so after he'd taken her in. She had hoped and prayed in vain that he hadn't known what had happened to her in her time on the streets, but he knew. He always knew. And instead of shame, he made her rise above it, he'd tried to save her and he had succeeded. She missed him so much …

"Odetta?" Sera's voice floated through her memories of the past and Odetta snapped open her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Odetta licked her lips and cleared her throat, "yeah, I'm fine." She took a deep breath and looked at Sera, the pair had met a year or so ago. Bryn had recognised Sera as a were-hunter when she was on the run from her clan, he had advised her to move to New Orleans as there was an abundance of Weres that she could hide amongst.

Since then Sera had been mated and as the only person Odetta could claim a friendship with in America, she had turned to the Arcadian.

"I'm sorry to bring this on you, Sera; I just didn't know what else to do."

"Don't be stupid!" Sera chastised and Odetta smiled a little, "come with me. I've got someone I want you to meet. He's connected to the Dark-Hunters, he'll help you."

"No. Bryn never told anyone about me -"

"Its okay, Odette. The Dark-Hunters are a tight group, they don't turn their back on their own for something like that."

Odetta took a deep breath and nodded, she followed Sera to a drawing room, she opened the door and Dev was the first thing Odetta saw. Odetta moved her eyes across the room and let out a vile curse that caused Dev to choke and Sera to gasp in shock, Odetta blushed but didn't apologise.

"I thought you said you were going to help me!" Odetta turned to Sera who looked confused, "he was chasing me down the street and had his gun out!"

Otto did not smile or look endearing in anyway; he merely let his eyes travel over Odetta, studying her in her true form. She was no less lovely to him then in the picture, but he did not let the ice thaw from his eyes.

"If you had stopped, I might have been able to explain," Otto said coolly and Odetta snorted derisively, Otto arched an eyebrow.

"As if you would stop for a gun man that was chasing you down the street!"

Okay, she had a point.

"I would not only stop but I'd turn and fight."

"Are you calling me a coward?" Odetta demanded furiously, and Otto, enjoying her rage, merely gave an 'if the shoe fits' kind of look and shrug. Odette bit her tongue and refused to speak to him; she merely turned on her heel and walked towards the door.

Quicker then she could blink Otto was in front of her and halting her exit, she gave a growl of frustration and he laughed aloud. Thinking he had bested her Otto was unprepared to meet the floor him with a few smooth moves later, he gaped up at her as she stepped casually over him and out into the hallway. She was magnificent! Not even looking back to throw a glare at a laughing Dev, Otto sped up to catch her as she made her way towards the door leading to the bar. Just before she got there, Otto caught her arm, spun her round and pinned her with his body against the door.

Otto honestly hadn't meant to have her body flush with his, her breasts crushing into his chest, their knees and thighs connecting, their lips and noses a breath apart. But it happened and it was the most soul jolting moment of Otto's life. He'd faced down daimons and Gods and demons and a pissed off were-hunter once or twice, but never had they stopped him of breath and made a tingling flush of perspiration break over his body. Nerves? He was nervous! He was nervous and he was down right excited.

"Hands off," Odetta snapped, trying to shrug his hands off of her arms, she only succeeded in rubbing her body up against Otto's.

"Or what?" Otto snapped back, thoroughly enjoying her ire.

"I'll make sure your lineage ends here!" Odetta inserted her knee swiftly through Otto's legs and stopped firmly at his crotch, Otto jumped back perversely aroused by her dirty tactics. He saw the triumph on her face when she thought she'd got him to let go of her arms, Otto let a small smile slip on to his face.

"Look I'm here to find out who murdered Bryn Fane," Otto said and watched her face become a picture of sorrow and felt an unfamiliar tug of sympathy, but he didn't let it show. "Was it you?"

"No!" she denied, outraged. "I would never do anything like that!"

"Well, then you need to help us find out who did."

Odetta's face hardened. "Oh, I know alright," she said bitterly. "I can lead you right to them."

Otto nodded his approval and swept his hand towards the exit of Sanctuary.

"I think we need to talk in private."

"I prefer to talk here," Odetta said stiffly and Otto couldn't help but feel offended by her suspicious glare, though he admitted she had all the right in the world to be. Softening his face, which before now would have been a feat, Otto approached Odetta and held out a large hand.

"I promise you, Odetta Thorn, you will be safe with me."

"You've researched me," she accused and Otto saw no reason to lie, he nodded. The truth seemed to please her and although she refused his hand she walked out the Sanctuary of her own free will.

**********************************

"Go over it again please," Leo asked, staring contemplatively at Odetta. Odetta rubbed her tired eyes and began again, her voice hoarse from reciting her story twenty times. Otto stood beside Leo with his hip on the desk, he insisted taking part in the interview as it gave him a legitimate reason for him to openly stare at her.

"I told you. It wasn't daimons! No daimons on either side of the river could take out Bryn, he was too good. The assassins were human and they weren't in league with daimons either."

"You say they were ….?"

"Vampire hunters, yes," Odetta said tiredly and looked up pleadingly at Otto. "I know you think I'm lying by I'm not. Bryn had almost died before in a trap set by humans. I still bare the scars from an attack in June of last year."

"How was it the squire council in your area was not informed?" Leo asked, his tone held clear accusation.

"Bryn didn't trust them. He didn't trust anyone … except me," she looked down at her hands, composing herself. "He believed there was some sort of leak in the squires' council. That's the only way attacks on Dark-Hunters up and down the British Isles could have happened. The average human isn't capable of taking out a Dark-Hunter; these were planned attacks, prepared and coordinated!"

"Lastly, how is it you came to live with Bryn?" Leo asked, his voice carefully neutral, "were you and he lovers?"

Odetta wrinkled her nose in disgust and Otto felt relief move through him, the thought of her pining over her lost love did not sit too well with him. Why it should bother him he didn't want to find out.

"In the file we have on you it says …" Leo flipped through the file and Otto saw Odetta blanch, in fact she looked like she were about to keel over.

"That's enough, Leo," Otto's voice rumbled from behind, causing both Odetta and Leo to look at him.

Otto reached over and flipped the file closed.

"There's no need to go in to someone's personal affairs. Miss Thorn has agreed to cooperate, haven't you?"

Otto looked Odetta directly in the eye and Odetta felt herself nodding, she could do nothing else when faced with the sincere and boyishly beguiling eyes set in a man's handsome face. Odetta glanced down at the black spider web tattoo on the back of his hand; she felt a chill of foreboding race up her spine. It wouldn't be good to get too close to him.

Otto noticed her quick assessment of his tattoo and wished he'd hidden it, the blood rites tended to make everyone nervous. They worked as the assassins for the dark-hunter world. If a hunter turns against humans, or a squire betrays his/her code the blood rites are sent out to deal with them. Permanently.

"I came from a bad home. I ran away, ended up on the streets. Bryn found me and took me in." She said it quickly and coldly.

"That's it?" Leo asked skeptically.

"That's the bare bones of the matter, you don't need to know anymore then that," Odetta snapped back, sounding like a strict school matron. Otto almost grinned, but then he noticed the forlorn, lost look about her and he wanted to reach out and touch the perfection of her cheek. A touch meant simply for kindness, he had a feeling it may mean a lot to someone who had lost their only friend in the world.

"Bryn was the man that should have been my father. Instead I had a lowlife junkie and part time child molester. Clear enough for you?"

Leo had the grace to flush and mumble an apology; Otto felt his heart seize up at the words, his mind screamed out in denial. The air suddenly became more tense in the room, neither man knowing what to do or say, but every molecule in Otto's body demanded that he wrap her up in his arms and protect her from further harm.

"That's enough, Leo," Otto repeated quietly and Leo took the hint, he made to pick up the file but Otto placed his hand on it and shook his head. Odetta didn't see what passed between them as her face was cast downwards, shame filling her very lungs until she thought she might suffocate from it. Leo left and Otto remained, Odetta forced herself to meet his eyes, her own blazing with defiance and attitude.

"Now what?" she asked belligerently.

"Well, round about now I go home and watch old horror movies, you up for that?"

Otto was quite happy to see her taken momentarily off guard, but she recovered swiftly and smoothly got up from her chair and walked to the door.

"No, thank you."

"Don't like horror?"

"Who doesn't? I just want to go back to my room."

"Oh, I'll show you there, I've had your bag taken from Sanctuary -"

"What are you talking about?" Odetta said sharply, fixing him with a deadly glare, he dared not smile but it was a close thing.

"Ah, didn't I tell you? You're moving in with me."

Odette looked like she was about to explode with rage, if the colour building up in her face was any indication of what was to come Otto would have been safer hiding under the couch. But he simply raised a hand to cut off any interruption.

"I told you I would keep you safe and I like to keep my promises. So."

Odette felt completely mystified, something akin to waking up and finding yourself in the middle of the ocean. What do you do next?

"So what?" she tried that angle.

"Evil dead or Halloween?"

Odetta actually laughed at his casual demeanour and even more so when he gave her a down right insane grin before offering his hand that she this time took.

************************************

Otto paused outside the entertainment room of his house; he took a deep breath before moving inside where Odetta would be sitting. Otto opened the door quietly with his usual masculine grace and subtly and stepped into the room, immediately he was confronted with his favourite gadgets and games of modern and classic entertainment. Instead of being on the comfy couch he had left her sitting on, Odetta was standing by the sliding glass doors that looked out on to his indoor pool. As if sensing his return Odetta turned with an uncertain smile and moved back towards the couch, Otto returned her smile with one of his own, his face muscles feeling unused to such a movement, he was normally deadpan.

"Got it," he said tapping the DVD case in his other palm, he flicked a glance down to the cover, "I'm surprised you like this one."

"I'm surprised you have it," Odetta replied, she pulled her cuffs over her hands, Otto recognised it to be a sign of nervousness rather then of being cold. She perched on the edge of the couch and waited for him to put the DVD on.

"It's not rare," Otto asked, knowing it wasn't. He hunched down to put the movie on, the side of Odetta's mouth quirked up.

"No, but most people only ever like the first Exorcist movie, they never have the third."

"What did you think of the first?" Otto asked, it was no secret he was a movie buff, he had a doctrine in film studies for Artemis sake.

"Boring. I mean, admittedly Regan was pissing your drawers scary but up until then it was a drag." She paused as if considering, "so was the sequel. Book was good though."

Otto laughed lightly, that had always been his assessment of both movies. He moved back to sit on the couch and looked at her, she was hunched away from him, her eyes fixed completely on the screen.

"Yeah, Blatty can write mean horror, huh? Prepared to be afraid and all that. Why don't you lay back?" Otto suggested, Odetta gave him a small smile and shook her head, Otto moved to grab the remote from the coffee table before him and Odetta flinch out of the corner of his eye.

Otto sat back and stared at her, she stared at the screen; they stayed that way for almost a minute before Odetta said in a falsely casual voice.

"Aren't you going to play it?"

"Not until you relax."

Odette flicked a glance his way then back to the screen, "I'm fine."

"No your not," Otto sighed, "not by a long shot. So come on, what's up? What did I do?"

"What did you do?" Odetta repeated slightly bemused.

"Yeah, I mean I've been assured by almost everyone I come into contact with that my social skills are not entirely up to scratch because I don't talk too much. Plus when I do talk I have a habit of either scaring people or putting my foot in it. Big time. So yeah, I'm thinking I've done something wrong."

Odetta waited a beat before quirking her brow. "You don't talk much?"

Otto grinned and gave a one shoulder type of shrug. "Normally I'm quiet. Don't really like too talk much; I never really have much to say. But you seem nervous and it seems to me that talking, what's that phrase? Breaks the ice?"

Odetta nodded, transfixed by this slightly strange man before her.

"Well, yeah, it seems to me that yapping is the best way to break the ice. So what is it about me that is creeping you out and I'll curb it."

Odetta opened her mouth once and closed it then repeated the action before she gave a short crack of laughter that was deep and rich and utterly infectious. It caused Otto not only to laugh with her but for his skin to literally sizzle.

"Your social skills are fine, Carvaletti," Odetta chuckled, "I'm not normally this … nervy, I guess that's the best way to put it. I'm not used to interacting with people who are aware of the Dark-Hunter world. And, ah … I'm not a big people person much to be honest. I'm kind of in a weird place as it is at the moment, with Bryn … well you know," she broke off quickly but to her credit she did not cry or sniffle, Otto admired her more for her keeping that kind of composure. Not many people, he included, could hold up so well when only days ago their family had been killed. "Anyway what I'm getting at is I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"You don't," Otto protested quickly, truthfully, "do I make you uncomfortable?"

Odetta looked him over and laughed, Otto didn't know whether to be offended or not. Okay, so he wasn't trying to strike a threatening or imposing figure around her in case she was in a fragile mental state. Still he normally gave people pause when he was near them. Perhaps he was so used to that feeling of physical and combative superiority that it knocked him off kilter when someone wasn't susceptible to it.

Odetta leaned back slightly, her body becoming less tense, she nodded towards his hand.

"That does."

Otto looked down at his spider web tattoo and contemplated it; he looked back at her and pursed his lips.

"I guess I can understand that," he muttered, lots of people were freaky around it. Otto didn't particularly like it himself; he'd only had it done so he's status within the Dark-Hunter world wouldn't be limited to a Nancy blue blood. He wanted to forge his own reputation and build a career that didn't come off of his father's back. Otto got up and walked into the hall, when he came back Odetta laughed aloud at the brown leather glove on his hand, covering the tattoo.

"Better?" Amused, Odetta nodded her head and smiled at him.

"Yeah."

****************************

The phone rang and Otto lowered his paper, he looked at it guiltily as it continued to ring shrilly, he flinched when the answering machine picked up the call and his father's voice lashed at him from across town.

"Otto? Otto? I know your there! You better pick up, boy! Don't you make me come over there; if I do you'll feel the back of my hand!"

Otto snorted, even as children his father hadn't ever done more then paddle their bottoms when he and his siblings were naughty.

"Roberto! Roberto, come away from there before you have a stroke!" Otto winced; his mother. Now he was in trouble. Roberto Carvalletti switched to rapid Italian, cursing his ungrateful son and handed the phone to his wife. Anna Carvalletti took her husband's place at the line.

"_Bambino_, we know you're busy, but we would like for you to call once in a while to let us know if you're alive or dead. We've had the undertaker on hold for two weeks, we're not sure if you want cherry wood or oak for the coffin."

Otto barked out a laugh, his mother always did have a great sense of humour, he heard his father reprimanding her in the background.

"By the way, _bambino_, the charity ball this weekend - try to make it. Oh, yes, and one more thing, precious gem."

Otto stiffened and looked at the phone warily; his mother's voice had taken on a sickly, honeyed tone.

"What have you done?" Otto asked cautiously, dread growing within him.

"Cynthia was complaining to us about how she has not seen you for so long. So we told her you were at home. She's calling on you this afternoon."

The phone went dead as Otto dived to pick it up. "No! Mom, no, tell her now is no good for me! Mom? Mom! SHIT!"

"Bad time?"

Otto looked up to see Odetta standing in the doorway; she was poised at the threshold, looking at him as if she were unsure about his mental state. Otto quickly removed himself from the table he was sprawled across and cleared his throat, was he blushing? He risked a quick glance at the mirror on the opposite wall. _Oh, by the gods, he was!_

"No. No, now is cool. Did you want to see me about something?"

"Err, yes and no, I guess."

Otto glanced at his watch. "I'm hungry, you?"

"Your always hungry! By rights you should way the size of a small hippo."

Otto laughed, the woman was as direct as it was possible to be. He'd never met anyone with the ability to speak their mind without making it sound malicious or insulting; Odetta had perfected it to a T.

"And you don't eat enough. I've seen more fat on a greasy hamburger."

Odetta laughed. "Why don't you let me cook? You must get sick of take out and restaurant food all the time."

"No, it's the staple of the American diet." Odetta laughed at him again.

"C'mon, home cooking is always better."

"Okay, but on one condition."

Odetta gave him a look of mock suspicion, "what?"

"You cook something Italian."

"Oh, so I can mess up and you can tell me this isn't '_justa how a mama used to make_'."

Otto laughed when she did a terrible impression of an Italian accent, they walked with each other own to the kitchen, bantering as they went. Otto had completely forgotten about Cynthia Prince and the impending horror of the charity ball. Being in Odetta's company did that for him, it made him simply forget the chores of life, for example his family.

Otto sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen that hadn't ever been used, while Odetta admonished him on that.

"Why don't you get somewhere smaller? You don't use half of what's here."

"Because when I have a family some day, it will be used and the wife will think everything has been brought new."

"I don't doubt that," Odetta muttered, she was having trouble getting the seal off of a set of sharp kitchen knives. She gave Otto the manly task of opening all the 'un-openables' as she termed it. Otto liked doing it, there was something very manly and domesticated and … homely about the man opening what his wife was having trouble with. Otto's fingers stilled on the packaging.

_Wife? What the hell …? _

Otto took a deep breath and pushed the thought aside, he'd bring it out and study it later.

"So you want a family someday, Otto?" Odetta said, fiddling about with the stove.

"I'm Italian," Otto said simply, "It's not a matter of want. We breed like rabbits and we're expected to."

Odetta grinned at that. "How many of you are there?"

"Fifteen."

"Jesus!" Odetta almost lost her grip on the pot she was dragging out of the cupboard. "Your poor mother! How did she have time to do anything other then pop you guys out?"

Otto was struck dumb for a moment before he laughed and shrugged. "Twins run strong in our family."

"Are you a twin?"

"Perfection can never be duplicated," he commented in a deadpan voice and Odetta laughed hard. He relished the sight, her laughing at him while preparing food for him in his home. That thought which he had promised himself he would not think about until later crept up again, and this time Otto did not immediately push it away. In fact he toyed with it a bit, elaborated on it and savoured it, while simultaneously savouring the sight of Odetta's shapely derriere moving before him.

Odetta found a large white apron and pulled it on.

"Want me to help you with that?" Otto asked and she nodded, giving him her back so he reached round and began tying the strings, her waist was so slender, he had to re-wrap the strings several times, before tying it in a clumsy bow. Then he settled his hands on her waist and without thinking about it, pulled her back towards him, so her bottom was perched on his knees. He felt her stiffen, heard her small gasp.

"Are you okay?" he asked her huskily.

"Yes," she whispered back, "what are you doing?"

_Falling in love with you, I think._

"Nothing. Just holding you."

Odetta settled back into his arms and they came around her waist, she played with the hairs on his forearms and watched goose bumps blossom on his skin.

"You know the Theti back home know who killed Bryn; they are days away from catching them."

Otto rested his cheek on her shoulder blade. "I know."

"Well, I can go home soon."

"I know."

"I'm not going to sleep with you, Otto."

Otto felt his temper prickle, is that all she thought he wanted? _Wasn't it? _Well, yes. But he also wanted to marry her, to woo her, wine and dine her. If he wanted a quick rumble in the sheets, he could just call Cynthia Prince!

"I'm not asking you to," he said sharply, and to her credit Odetta didn't flinch.

"Then what are you asking?" she demanded.

"For you to stay long enough to come with me to the damned charity ball!"

"When?" Odetta asked shocked.

"This weekend," Otto snapped, still sulky.

Odetta got up from his lap, she moved to the stove where she began to stir the pasta sauce.

"Okay," she said with a smile, and Otto gave her a sarcastic one in return, which she just laughed at. The door bell sounded and Otto got up to get it, resenting how he couldn't sulk when it came to her, she just laughed away his ire until it felt pointless hanging on to it.

Otto opened the door and saw Cynthia Prince there, he groaned unable to censor his first reaction. Cynthia scowled.

"What the hells wrong with you?"

Otto shrugged, not daring to open his mouth and admit that she was what was wrong with him. Cynthia invited herself over the threshold and moved in to kiss him. Otto evaded it and closed the door, he walked back towards the kitchen, not sure what else to do. Cynthia followed like a hapless puppy. Odetta turned from her wonderful smelling concoction and smiled uncertainly at Cynthia, who ignored her. Odetta looked as if she were about to laugh and turned her back on them, Otto felt shamed by Cynthia's bad manners.

"Is that your cook?"

"No!" Otto said, offended for Odetta. "She's my friend. My guest for the next week or so. And -" He said the last part with sadistic joy.

"My date for the charity ball this weekend."

Cynthia looked like she had just been told she was wearing last season's colours.

"Excuse me?"

"I said she's my date," Otto said louder, deliberately misunderstanding her meaning.

"Oh." Her tone held arctic temperatures and Odetta's eyes widened slightly. "I must be going." Cynthia spun on her expensive heel and left, a few seconds later the front door slammed loudly; Odetta looked over at Otto who was watching the departure with a bored expression.

"Is she your girlfriend or something?"

"Absolutely not!" Wondering if he had ever been more offended. "Give me some credit I'm not as shallow as to date her."

"But you slept with her?" Odetta remarked astutely. Otto stiffened, it was the first time he had really had the inclination to lie to her, but he didn't, instead he faced her and nodded.

"Are you using me to get back at her for something?"

"No!" Otto couldn't believe he had fallen in love with a woman who made offending him an art. He approached her and took her by the shoulders, Odetta moved out of his hold.

"Oh, come on! You're going to hold the fact that I slept with her against me?"

"Not in the slightest. You're a big boy, Otto; you can do as you please." Then why were his insides writhing with guilt. "I wouldn't expect to be reprimanded for the men I've slept with. But I don't want to get in between something. If your intention is to merely make her jealous, then find someone else to take to this ball thing. As far as I'm concerned men aren't worth fighting over."

Men she'd slept with? He knew she wasn't a virgin, well, he thought he knew she wasn't. But he didn't like to think about her with any man that wasn't him; he was planning on keeping this woman by his side for a long time. Admittedly he had decided their fate together in a few minutes but he was certain they were right for each other.

Otto moved towards her and cupped her delicate face in his hands; he stroked his thumbs over her cheeks, while he stared down into those eyes that held such strength and beauty.

"Odetta, believe me when I say I am not interested in Cynthia. I don't cheat and I don't lie if I can help it. Not about things that are to do with the heart. I want you and I like to think you want me. And after all this business with Bryn's killers is sorted out, well … I'd like for you to consider staying here …. With me," he added, feeling unsure.

Odetta smiled radiantly and leant up to brush a smooth, whispering kiss over Otto's lips. Otto opened his mouth, inviting her in but she laughed and backed away.

"We'll talk more about this later," she said, glancing sexily over her shoulder, Otto grinned stupidly and went to sit down at the bar again. Shifting when his pants began to feel rather tight around the groin.

************************

There had been no word from the Theti back home in a few days, from there last report they had been hot on the trail of the human vampire hunters. Odetta admitted she would be both elated and disappointed at the thought of going home. She wanted to go home and get Bryn's house in order, pack away his things, before the house went up for sale or was repossessed by the local council. Wasn't that what usually happened when a person died with no relatives. Besides, Odetta cared little for the material things, the house held memories for her and that would be the only reason she would stay. But more then anything she wanted to give a little ceremony in honour of Bryn, since there had been no body; she had to content herself with the ceremony to celebrate the life of the man that should have been her father.

Otto assured her that he would come back with her and help her with the preparations when she had mentioned it to him. The man was such a sweet heart, he acted hard-ass in front of his colleagues but with her he was ever the thoughtful gentleman. Perhaps he was serious about her staying in America with him? It was rather unbelievable, but the flicker of hope inside her kept flaring to life when she thought about it. Odetta felt herself smiling as she tasted the sauce she was making to marinate the ribs she had bought, _hmmm, needed more paprika … _

They had fallen into an easy relationship since she had taken up residence in Otto's house, he was usually out most of the day catering to the needs of different dark-hunters and managing the squire council's contacts within the wider community. Odetta wanted to go with him but Otto refused to allow it until Bryn's murderers were caught, so she was left at home like the simpering little wife. And she was going stir crazy!

Otto had a maid that came in every morning to freshen the place up, not that it really needed it. One man living in this big old place hardly created any real mess, and adding a woman only cleaned up the mess that he did make, so there was really nothing for the maid to do. Out of pure boredom Odetta had taken to cooking, at first she was just trying out recipes she had found in a brand new cook book under Carvalletti's sink, then she came to relish the look on his face when he came home. The way he would try and sneak up behind her, as if she didn't already know he as there, and wrap his arms around her waist, nuzzling her cheek to his.

_That smells good, bella … _or _another recipe, Cara mia? …_

She would shrug and say she got bored and he would kiss her cheek and sneak something into his mouth, she always let him. In fact they had fallen into a weird yet completely normal relationship of a faux husband and wife. Otto had suggested once or twice that she become initiated into Squire hood, but the thought of doing that was frightening to Odetta, it felt too permanent to suddenly pledge her allegiance to people she didn't know, serve a dark-hunter she felt nothing for. Perhaps later when things became clearer she would consider it, but not now, not yet.

The front door opened and shut lightly and there was a sound of footsteps approaching the kitchen, no doubt following the smell of the food.

"Your home early," Odetta called over her shoulder, she didn't look around from clearing away her mess, she was nothing if not a tidy cook. "I thought you said you had to take care of something for a complaining dark-hunter?"

"Is that where he's gone to?"

Odetta whipped around at the warm, feminine voice, her eyes wide and slightly fearful. Anna Carvalletti smoothly introduced herself and moved forward towards the bowl on the table top furthers from Odetta so she didn't feel threatened.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Odetta said, her manners kicking in after that shaky start, "I didn't expect to see anyone other then Otto today."

"That's quite alright, my dear," Anna said kindly, "may I?"

Anna indicated the bowl and Odetta nodded, "by all means."

Odetta watched the stylish older woman remove her light summer hat and placed it on the breakfast bar; she turned back to the bowl and dipped in her pinkie. Odetta could see a lot of Otto in his mother, not so much in looks as in mannerisms, a tilt of the head or a movement of the mouth that was uncannily similar between to two.

Once Anna had finished her inspection of the food which she found absolutely delicious, she turned and looked over the young girl with a motherly expression. Lovely long dark hair was pulled back tight from her face that was delicate; Anna eyed the girl's smooth, flawless skin tone enviously.

"So you're the reason I haven't seen my son in over to weeks," she said and Odetta paled a little.

"Oh, no. I mean, I didn't know I was keeping him from any important family meetings. He suggested I stay here." Odetta realised she was on the verge of stuttering and rambling, so she took a long, deep breath and calmed herself. When she looked back at Anna, she saw the older woman's eyes laughing good-naturedly at her and smiled, she held her arms out at her side and let them drop as if to say: 'this is me, all there is. Look your fill.'

"So, my dear, are you and Otto dating?"

Odetta opened her mouth but no sound came out. How could she explain their situation when she couldn't define it herself? What were she and Otto to each other? Not friends, they were more then that, not yet lovers. So what then?

"We're just friends."

Anna arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow and glanced pointedly at the roses he had had sent to her a few days ago. When Odetta had asked what for, he had merely replied that he had been thinking of her while bored at work and realised that he hadn't yet bought her roses. Odetta could see Anna's mind working over time and before she could stop herself she opened her mouth.

"We haven't slept together or anything," she blurted out and covered her eyes with her hand. Anna was silent for a moment before letting out a crack of laughter.

"Well, they never said youth wasn't stupid," she remarked wiping her eyes of jolly tears, Odetta raised her own eyebrow.

"Don't you want to sleep with him?" Anna asked.

"That's none of your business!" Odetta cried mortified.

"I'll take that as a yes," she said dryly and Odetta blushed. She could not believe she was having this conversation in the middle of Otto's kitchen with his mother no less.

There was definite sexual tension between herself and Otto, but she wasn't about to tell his mother that. There were nights when all she wanted to do was jump into bed with him, rip his clothes from his back and have her wicked way with him. She didn't fear that he would use her and throw her away, she had come to see he was too much of a gentleman to do that to someone he liked and respected. But Odetta had always wanted more from sex then a lot of men were prepared to give her, she expected a relationship, eventually love. She didn't know if Otto was capable of that. And the worse part was she was already half in love with him anyway, she couldn't give her heart to him when the outcome could be likely be that he would break it.

**************************

Otto moved through the house feeling like a schmuck, he had a bouquet in his hand and in his pocket, burning a hole through the material to his leg, was a box with a ring in it. He found Odetta in the entertainment room; she was watching an old Alfred Hitchcock film and jumped with surprise when he put the flowers in front of her. The smile she gave him left him sucker punched.

"Daisies! Oh, they are beautiful," Odetta kissed Otto on the mouth, "thank you."

"Thought I owed you something for not letting you out the house for two weeks. Plus making you cook for me every night."

"Shut up, I like to cook," she admonished light heartedly and rubbed her cheek on the petals, Otto reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"_Balissimo_," he murmured throatily, Odetta blushed.

"Your mother was here today."

"What!"

"Yeah, she popped in."

Otto looked dumb struck. "What did she want?"

"To see you. To know if we were dating and if we were sleeping together," Odetta said matter of factly and laughed at Otto's face, he looked like he was going to be sick.

"Did you like her?" he asked curiously.

"I thought she was wonderful," Odetta answered honestly and Otto grinned happily, one hurdle out of the way, he thought.

"Excellent."

***********************************

The issue of the ring had not yet been brought up because no one other then himself and the jeweller he bought it off of, knew he had it. Otto didn't know what had come over him; he hadn't been prepared for the shock Odetta had delivered to his system. He was normally cool, aloof, sarcastic, monosyllabic and disliked by several people, he was also dangerous and capable of carrying out tasks that the average squire would likely bulk at. How could someone like him ever hope to make such a delicate, wonderful woman like Odetta happy? What was there about him that could compel her to stay? His own father had said as much to him, and then hinted that if 'the girl' did stay with him it would most likely be because of the wealth she would acquire.

Roberto Carvalletti was apt at setting the serpent on Otto's personal Eden. He mentally cursed his father for supplying him with such doubts, for shattering the one thing that Otto could say he truly wanted.

The charity ball had been a wonderful success, as it always was when his mother and elder sister co-organised an event. Odetta had swept down the stairs earlier that evening, her gown was a perfect navy satin, which formed in Otto's mind something of a modernised and classy toga. It fitted her like she had bathed in it, like liquid it flowed and skimmed her lean, beautiful body, making Otto's heart swell at the sight. Her dark hair had been swept back in a tight bun at the base of her skull, leaving the long, graceful expanse of neck to tempt Otto while he leaned into her on the dance floor.

Otto had never introduced another woman to his parents, never cared enough to wait anxiously for the reaction from each. It was new to him. His siblings, those that had been present of course, had taken Odetta in graciously, and she and his mother were locked together some part of the night whispering and laughing together conspiratorially. The only opinion he had yet to get was his father's, though at the time Otto was sure that they would all love Odetta as much as he did. Towards the end of the night however, Roberto had pulled him to one side.

"Just what the hell do you think your doing, Otto?" he demanded, his dark eyes eloquent in concern and disapproval.

"What are you talking about?" Otto wasn't listening, he was watching Odetta laugh with his sister and her friends, her face was alight with happiness. Their eyes connected over the top of the glass she raised to her lips and he knew what was on her mind. It had been on his mind ever since he'd met her, his groin immediately felt tight and he wanted nothing more then to hurry her home.

"What is the meaning of bringing this, this person, to the ball?" Otto snapped his head back round to face his father; his face looking confused which was not something that was common with him.

"What do you mean, 'why did I bring her'? Because I wanted to! Damn it!"

Otto added the curse under his breath and exhaled on a mirthless chuckle and Roberto looked thunder struck, Otto's father deliberately turned his back to the crowd and boxed Otto into a corner. Otto let him purely because the man was his father, and that was the only reason he was hearing him out.

"You were meant to bring Cynthia!"

"I didn't want to bring Cynthia," Otto said deliberately as if his father was slow and hard of hearing. "I wanted to bring Odetta, so I did."

"You bloody fool, Otto! You've courted Cynthia Prince for months, what kind of man turns there back on a woman so callously?"

Otto wanted to laugh at the foolishness of the reprimand but he was too busy trying to control his rage and indignation at the statement.

"Don't you dare question my honour!" Otto snarled between gritted teeth, "You might as well have courted her for all the time I actually spent with her. We were a casual affair, no more!"

"If it was so casual you shouldn't have had trouble having her as your date tonight then, should you?"

"I wouldn't do that to, Odetta!"

"Ah, here we go," Roberto murmured disgustedly, "finally getting to the bottom of this, aren't we? You would throw away a chance of a potential marriage with one of the most prominent families in America for what? A nobody? Some little chit from the streets?"

"I was never going to marry Cynthia Prince! You were! You were going to marry her family! I was just the _fesso _who was caught in the middle, wasn't I?"

"We all have a duty, Otto -" Roberto began heatedly only to have Otto cut him over in a deadly whisper.

"Do not talk to me about duty, sir!" Otto was seething, he wanted to get away from his father but anger and need to fight was keeping him rooted. "I have done more then enough for this family in the way of duty. For duty I left my home, my _family _-" Otto said derisively and Roberto's eyes flared. "I had to become a blood rite for you, you even tried to turn on my friends!"

"Nick Gautier is -"

"One of my best friends. You would make me give up everything, but not this."

Roberto sneered at his son. "What? So you're in love with this stupid little -"

Otto took a menacing step forward, and for the first time in his life Roberto Carvalletti actually had the experience of fearing one of his sons. He had not ruled his family with an iron rod but each and every one of them knew not to cross him, they knew when not to do or say something. Otto had always been difficult from an early age, but Roberto knew his son to have a deep sense of honour, of duty and of right and wrong, it was the control with which Roberto had commanded his son's actions over the years. Apparently now, he had lost that control to Odetta Thorn.

Roberto took a deep breath.

"She's homeless, Otto. Penniless, friendless, under suspicion of murdering a Dark-Hunter. And you convince yourself that she is with you because she loves you? Don't be a fool, my son. She needs a protector and you are a strong one, you are a natural leader and guardian. She senses that in you and she is playing you. Your rich and are highly respected in our world and the Dark-Hunter one, you've conversed with Gods and Oracles - do you really think she is drawn to you because she loves you?"

Otto had looked up at his father with loathing, for making him think such things. He hated himself even more for believing them.

Otto pulled up at traffic lights on the ride home and flicked a glance over to Odetta, who sensing Otto's dark mood, remained silent through the journey. His mind twisted unpleasantly around everything she had said or done in front of him, glances she had given to things in his home that before were awed and innocent were now lustful and greedy. They pulled into Otto's driveway relatively early, Odetta got out of the car and moved towards the door, she turned and smiled at Otto when she reached the porch steps first. Otto didn't return the smile, as he pushed the key in the lock he caught the scent of Odetta's perfume, he felt the heat from her body run up his right side. He wanted to lay his head dejectedly against the door and sigh. He wanted someone to tell him he was wrong, his father was wrong and Odetta was right. Everything about her before tonight had seemed right, now he could not seem to get over the feeling that he might be being played. She looked so beautiful in that dress. _A dress you bought … _Otto cringed, that was something his father would say, Otto didn't want to be his father. He let them in the house and like actors waiting for the directors orders; they dallied and hesitated in the front hall before the grand staircase. Otto looked down at his hands that fiddled with his keys, Odetta rubbed her long, shapely neck and glanced over her shoulder as if wanting someone to come in and tell her what to do next.

"I had a lovely time tonight," Odetta said in a falsely cheerful voice, yet her words were sincere, "your family are wonderful."

Otto made a noise that could have been disagreement but Odetta wasn't sure. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, just tired."

His voice abrupt and impatient, he'd never been so with her before and Odetta wondered whether going through with tonight would be a good idea. She had made plans for tonight; to do something they were both dying for, something which she had been denying them. For days their eyes had met in the middle of their conversation and locked and held, looks of promise and passion, she had been the one to break it, to look away and hide, like a coward. Odetta took a deep, steadying breath and moved towards Otto, she stopped a hairs breadth away and let her hand reach out and twine with Otto's. Their breathing was loud in the hall and her heart beat was insanely fast, she gave him a dazzling smile.

"How tired?" she asked, her voice husky and in its huskiness, seductive. Otto looked away from her and clenched his jaw; he almost broke when her warm, slender fingers stroked his cheek. Her sweet, soft lips followed her fingers, tracing his jaw and moving down towards his neck.

He wanted this, he'd wanted this from the moment he'd seen her picture. Wanted to know for real how soft the skin on her inner thighs was, how heavy her breasts would feel in his hands, how well their scents would mix upon the sheets of his bed. He'd wanted it all, so why, in the name of the Gods, did he not take it? The way he did Cynthia, Otto cringed at the thought, comparing them in his mind was like blasphemy, but it was too late, she had felt it and Odetta pulled back, he didn't stop her.

Odetta looked away hoping to blink back the tears before they were visible. He'd actually cringed when she had touched him! Cringed! It made her feel so dirty and cheap and utterly humiliated, this would have been the first time she would have ever had sex with a man without knowing him for more then at least a year. Yet she suddenly felt like a whore.

Summoning all her courage and strength Odetta faced Otto with dry eyes, she could not, however, evade the nervous habit of scratching her upper arm as if she were scratching a rash.

"Your right," she said briskly, "you're tired. Excuse me."

She took her leave gracefully and swiftly up the stairs and when out of sight, she fled into her room and locked the door; there she let her dry eyes turn damp, while pressing a pillow to her mouth to halt all noise.

Otto heard her run on the ceiling above him, he listen for the door to close and the snap of the lock, even if he decided to, he wouldn't be getting in her room tonight, or very likely any other night.

**********************************

Otto stood in the doorway of Odetta's room leaning against the jamb, the bed was neatly made and the window was open to let in fresh air. He knew that should he slide open the wooden chest of drawers, one after another, he would find them barren and empty. He knew because he had looked, it had been the first thing he had done to confirm that Odetta had actually left. He'd peeked into her wardrobe too, it had pained him more then the empty drawers, in there hung the beautiful, navy dress she had on when she had set out to seduce him the night of the charity ball.

Otto mentally kicked himself. _Seduce._

Odetta was too honest, guileless and sweet, to seduce someone. How had it taken for her to leave for him to realise that? Otto almost laughed, bitterly, wasn't that how all stories ended? You don't realise what you want, what you need, until it's gone? Long gone. Otto rubbed a hand over his face and moved towards the wardrobe, it was closed, so he leant his forehead against the wood. What a prize fool he'd been! He'd never experienced pain like this, such aching, as it normal? How would a man who had never been in love before know? He'd let himself be fooled. He'd heard of Kyrian and Amanda's happiness, he'd witnessed first hand Valerius and Tabitha's love blossom, Ravyn and Susan, even the most impossible had happened in his life time, Psycho ass and Astrid. Then the down right freaky, Ash and Tory. There seemed to be no end to the couples, to the love that could grow from the most hardened of hearts. He'd let himself believe he could have the same thing.

A ringing from his pocket made him jump and Otto cursed as he pulled it from his pocket, without checking caller I.D he pressed the button and put it to his ear.

"Odetta?"

"No, it's me."

"Me?" Otto murmured wearily, rubbing his aching forehead.

"Yes, me. Leo. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, do you have any news on Odetta?"

"Yeah, she was intercepted by the Theti when her plane had to do an unexpected stop over in gay Paree."

"She's still there?" Otto said already walking to the door.

"Of course not," Otto stopped, his shoulders slumping, "well, she was until this morning. Then the Brits sent a report out saying the daimons that killed Bryn had been caught and disposed of. They let her go."

"So she's out there alone!" Otto snapped angrily, he heard Leo sputter down the phone.

"Need I remind you asshole, if you hadn't upset her - and I don't know what you did, but you pissed her off royally! - she wouldn't be on the plane in the first place." Leo took a fortifying breath, then said. "Look she's a big girl she doesn't need your help. Okay?"

Otto wanted to shout back that it wasn't okay! But what could he do or say that could possibly help the situation. He had lost the only woman he had ever loved because he had let himself be weak enough to believe the poison his father was spewing on him.

"I know, Leo," Otto said trying to sound casual. "But you know, she's all alone now and she doesn't exactly have any money. You know anything could happen to a young girl, flying around Europe."

"Well, aren't you just the regular Mr. Darcy," Leo taunted, "look, she'll be fine. Just because I'm an old fashion gentleman, I tracked her until she landed back on British soil at Heathrow airport. And as for her being penniless and destitute!" Leo scoffed. "She was the sole heir to everything, that is to say Bryn Fane's entire fortune and estate. Seeing as the guy was a few centuries old he accumulated some wealth, as you can imagine."

Otto froze.

"Wha - err, are you saying that this girl has inherited a fortune? How much?" Otto demanded.

"Let's just say her many times great grandbabies won't ever have to lift a finger. Bryn had a shit load of investments that went a long way, plus she was his manager of accounts or some shit so she has quite a good business head on her shoulders."

Whilst Leo was still talking Otto terminated the call and walked over to the bed, where he sat down on the side of it. Putting his head in his hands Otto groaned, he had some serious grovelling to get to. And a flight to catch.

*****************************

Odetta pulled into the front courtyard of Bryn's mansion and eased the car into a stop, staring up at the place she had once called home. A place she had spent many, many happy years with Bryn, the only man she had ever trusted. What had once seemed splendid and wonderful, now looked forbidding and dangerous. The weeks past had been a tumultuous and exhausting, Odetta felt she had received a relentless barrage of emotional pain, being back home again brought to light just how very drained she was. So much so that she felt she could simply lay her head upon the steering wheel and fall into a deep sleep, and when she woke up, if she woke up at all, everything would have righted itself without her help. She could have come here earlier, she could have flown to England and started to put affairs into order, but she hadn't, instead she had gone on a pilgrimage of sorts to Wales. Bryn had been born and raised in a small, isolated village in mid-Wales called Cwn Brefi, Odetta smiled when she remembered how she teased Bryn about being no more Welsh then the lamb they had eaten on St David's day. Although Bryn had been gone from his village for several years it had always remained close to his heart, he had kept a scrapbook in his closet of all articles written on the place. Especially, when in 2003, Cwn Brefi had been the last village in Wales to be connected to the national grid.

The place was beautiful. A woman asked her if she was there as a tourist, before she could stop herself Odetta explained to the woman that she had come back to pay tribute to her father's homeland. This in Odetta's mind was the absolute truth.

Odetta stepped out of the car, she leant back against it, and her mind turned to Otto. She wanted to hate him, she wanted to push him from her life and forget his very existence, but she couldn't. Had she been so starved for affection and in so much pain after Bryn died, that she allowed herself to be duped by a man? She didn't want to believe that was the case, she wanted to believe Otto had genuinely cared for her, that she had not simply shed the walls around her heart because of his handsome face and kind words. She wanted to think she was a better judge of character then to believe words of friendship and loyalty, simply because they were said when she had needed it most. Had she been used? What had she done that could turn him against her? Odetta wanted to weep.

"Its too late for that," she reminded herself, and she steeled her emotions against yet another attack as she walked towards the front door of Bryn's house. It was now hers; she knew that, but a part of her despised sleeping in the house where her father, the only father that had ever mattered, had been murdered. Odetta took a deep breath and gripped the cold door handle, she rasped out a dry sob. There was no kindly maid or butler that would welcome her and share her grief; there would be no one but her to miss Bryn, and to mourn him. She was all he had, and now she was all she had.

Suddenly the door handle was whipped out of her hand as the door swung inwards, Odetta screamed with shock and before she got a look at who was behind the door, threw her weight on to it, to hopefully take the person behind it by surprise and send them on to their asses. There was a muffled cry of alarm and pain before the door opened wider to reveal Otto standing behind there, clutching his nose and forehead. He glared at her between his fingers.

"What the devil are you doing here!" Odetta demanded, squelching the eruption of pure joy at seeing him. Otto lowered his hands, and Odetta saw a red spot forming between his eyes and on his nose, she took a wicked thrill in seeing them.

"You left me!" Otto snapped, and had the gall to grip her upper arm, Odetta slapped it but he didn't let go. "Why did you leave?!"

"Because I wanted to!"

"Didn't it occur to you to let me, the person you were living with, know when you were going to scram?"

"Not when that person was you!" Odetta hissed and yanked at her arm, trying to loosen his grip, which suddenly got painfully tight. However his voice became gentle, his eyes dark and sad, he tugged her through the front door and closed it, the hallway was dark and uninviting. Odetta tried not to let her eyes stray towards the living room. She sighed, and rubbed at her temples with her free hand.

"What are you doing here, Otto?"

Otto's face became even sadder and he let go of her arm, so he could take her hand. "I came to beg your forgiveness for the way I acted the other night. I thought you'd be there the next day for me to apologise to. But you weren't."

Odetta looked away before she spoke quietly. "I was there in the morning, but, ah, Cynthia come visiting."

"What?" Otto sounded shocked.

"She said something along the lines of you were getting married soon, and your fun with me would be over."

"And you believed her?" Otto growled in disbelief.

"Well, your actions the night before seemed to confirm it!" Odetta cried back.

Otto run agitated hands through his hair, before gripping her arms again, so she faced him and was looking up into his soft, Italian eyes.

"That was my fault, not yours." Otto began then stopped as if his words were too horrible for him to say, but he carried on miserably. "The night of the charity ball my father said some things. Things that caused me to doubt myself and because of that, I doubted you."

Odetta didn't ask what, she could only guess the kind of things they were, she realised she didn't want to know.

"So what's changed?" Odetta forced herself to say. Otto appeared to be uncomfortable, he blushed deeply before letting her go and walking around the room. When he turned back he spread his hands out as if trying to placate an irate animal.

"I told you I wouldn't let you face this alone, coming back here. You need someone."

Odetta raised an eyebrow, her heart shook, uncertain whether to break that little bit more. "Is that all?"

"No, that's not all, damn it!" Otto snapped, then he stopped pacing and let his face fall into his hands, he gave a mirthless laugh, which Odetta only recognised because of the lift and fall of his broad shoulders. He raised his head. "I love you, Odetta! I think it may have happened the first moment I saw you, perhaps the first time I touched you, no matter how innocent and unaware it may have seemed. I was lost the moment you came into my life as a mere picture. An assignment on a piece of paper. And that's what made me believe you and I belong together.'

"But my father is the ultimate bastard! All he cares about is money and power and status, he didn't care that for the first time in my life I was in love. I betrayed you, I was weak enough to let him make me think that …" Otto took a deep breath and Odetta raised her eyes to his, they looked frantic and a little damp. "That you could never love me, not the way I loved you. And that if you did it wouldn't be for the reasons that I wanted you to love me."

"How could you think that?" Odetta whispered, two tears rolling down her cheeks, Otto looked broken in the face of them.

"Because I'm an asshole," he said so sincerely that Odetta choked out a half sob, half laugh. "I've never been in love before, Odetta. You have to understand that every girl I have been with has just fallen into bed with me, that they saw me as this dangerous conquest. They saw the Armani clothes and the Gucci shoes and the Rolex and I was okay with that, for such a long time I was fine with being to them exactly what they were to me. Just another passed time, a hobby to get me through the day."

Otto didn't know if he was getting anywhere with spilling the God awful truths but now he was he couldn't stop, he gestured wildly as he spoke. Desperation causing his voice to get louder, to shake. He had to keep talking because if he didn't, there would be silence, then she would make her decision, should let him stay or make him leave. Otto didn't like the kind of risk it took laying himself bare before him, he was one of the best squires because he was a man with a plan, a good killer and fighter because he wasn't so spontaneous that he became rash and sloppy.

"I've been nothing to them and they have been nothing to me. When I work I'm this cold, dangerous, guy that kills more then he talks, that's what I'm good for. My family might love me, but they use me too. I'm a tool they have in their pockets that will do what must be done for honour, for duty. Everyone uses me for their own ends, even my fucking father. And then you happened, and whatever you did I was okay with, because I wanted you in my life that much. You were my reason to get through the day, you! The only thing I ever wanted all to myself in my whole life of sharing, and doing shit for others and … I wasn't sure that you wanted me. I wasn't sure I was good enough. I wasn't sure that you even liked me."

Otto had run out of steam, his voice was hoarse and his throat ached, partly because of a lump that threatened to choke him. Tears were there and he was sure that should she reject him, he wouldn't be able to control himself, screw dignity and honour, he'd be down on bended knees begging her to stay with him. He'd fallen so hard he was pretty sure that he wasn't the same person he had once been, he was prepared to give up anything and everything for her. Experience in his job had told him loving that much was dangerous; it was what caused half the Dark-Hunters in the first place. He also now understood how love could drive them to give up their immortal soul because of a loved one, a love so strong that it could literally lead to the destruction of families, cities, empires, souls … hearts.

Otto watched Odetta's lip quiver and she manly sucked it up and faced him, her brows drawn down in a frown, before she opened her mouth to speak.

"Do you really love me?" Her voice, for all her strong looks was as shaky as a new born calf's legs and Otto smiled with relief. He rushed towards her and collected her body into his arms. He'd not even made love to this woman, yet his body had been crying out for her, in ways that went beyond sex, just to hold her again, Otto sighed … there was no feeling like it.

"Oh, Cara. My whole life I've never loved anything more."

Otto buried his face in her hair and he felt warmth and tenderness seep into the very marrow of is bones, when her voice muffled against his chest whispered to him.

"I love you too."

***************************

Odetta waited outside the church doors and looked up at Acheron; he was the tallest being she had ever seen. He looked down on her and quirked a sexy brow above his sunglasses.

"Nervous?" he asked kindly and rather then open her mouth Odetta nodded, Acheron put a comforting hand over her own and Odetta took a deep, strengthening breath.

"Thank you for doing this for me, Ash," Odetta said quietly, "I didn't want to ask Otto father to give me away. We've made up but he's still too embarrassed about the whole situation to talk to me for more then a few minutes."

Ash laughed and shook his head. "Why? Your now wealthier then most squire families put together."

Odetta smiled up at the mysterious being, she had only met once before and that was when she had been a teenager in Bryn's care.

"Don't be coy, Ash," she slapped his arm lightly and he laughed. "You know the reason. Roberto is happy that I'm no longer the poor relation and they've ruled me out as a gold digger. But the whole situation is awkward. I think he's most embarrassed about the way he treated me."

"Yeah. I heard Otto practically cut his father out of his life if the man didn't apologise to you."

Odetta sighed and wondered why she was defending Otto's father. "He's proud that's all. Lots of men are."

"Pride cometh before the fall," Ash murmured.

"Ain't that the truth," Odetta commented and they grinned at each other.

"You know," Ash began, "Tory and I really didn't know what to get you for a wedding present. So we went down the …" he pretended to contemplate his words. "The unorthodox route."

"Oh?" Odetta said warily and Ash laughed, before stepping away from her and flourishing his hand needlessly. "What are you - Oh?"

Odetta forgot all about smearing her make up when she saw Bryn suddenly appear. His form was almost transparent; there was a grey tinge to him that made Odetta think of cigarette smoke. Bryn stepped forward and lifted a hand, which Odetta couldn't feel, to her cheek.

"Daddy," she murmured, closing her eyes, pretending she could feel him.

"Annwyl," Bryn said, his voice laced with a broad welsh accent was echoing. "How beautiful you look."

"How are you here?" Odetta sniffed, trying to salvage what was left of her make up, Bryn smiled and looked at Ash. Ash nodded and stepped back.

"Thank you, old friend," Bryn turned back to Odetta and smiled fatherly. "I wish I could stay longer -"

"You're leaving?"

"I have to, little one. But I am happy to have seen you this day. I wish it were me that would walk you down the aisle. But no better man could take my place."

Odetta sent Ash a dazzling smile and noticed that Tory was also there, tears of happiness streaming down the other woman's face while she held her husband's hand. Odetta turned back to Bryn and gave him a watery smile and sniffed delicately.

"I wish you could meet my husband," she rolled her eyes before she corrected herself, "the man soon to be my husband. He's wonderful."

At that moment a large warm hand closed over her bare shoulder and neck, Odetta looked over her shoulder to see Otto standing there, looking at her as if she were his passage to heaven. Otto turned his eyes to Bryn and the old warrior smiled kindly.

"No better man to take care of my child, when I could not. I owe you a debt."

Odetta let out a little sob and Otto tightened his hand. "Thank you. I'm proud to have met you, sir, it's an honour." Otto gave Odetta a look of absolute adoration before continuing. "I love Odetta very much."

"And that's all a father could ask for." Bryn smiled at Otto one last time and turned back to Odetta, he leant close and turned his face to her cheek as if he would kiss her there, instead he whispered in his own language. One he had been taught to Odetta when she was ill in bed, one he'd whispered to her through nightmare and fever.

"Canfod 'm i mewn 'ch breuddwydion , 'n arddun blentyn." See me in your dreams, beautiful child.

Odetta began to cry in earnest and Bryn dissolved before her eyes, Otto folded her into his arms and kissed the soft curls of her hair. Both happy and sad, but all the time relishing the sight of his beautiful wife to be in the dress that would tie her to him forever. Odetta lifted her head and looked around a little bewildered, then back to Otto.

"You better get back up that aisle!" she said with a faux glare, "there is no way your getting out of this as easy as he just did."

Everyone laughed and Otto smiled gently at her, loving the bravery just as much as her vulnerability.

"Yes, Ma'am."

Otto gave her one last kiss before they became husband and wife, one last look and one last smile before he returned to the front of the church ready and waiting to begin their lives together.


End file.
